By this morning, another was caught in my very last trap I'd left set down there. That makes 18 in all.
While in Portland, I texted a friend, asked her to go set her traps there. She did. So far no more, but this is the last best chance to catch any stragglers. By 8:30 tonight, if nothing else is caught or seen, I'll take back the four boys and a couple of the girls fixed yesterday. They're anxious to get out of the traps.
The rest will go home tomorrow, except the last cat caught, number 18, who will stay with me, in the Catbnb vacation suite, til he or she can be fixed Thursday.
|GrandpaStud is an Awesome kitty. He was fixed yesterday. Now he's back in his home turf and we should all worry about that. Kidding!|
And today? Today it poured. The traffic was horrendous driving up to the FCCO and the day was gray, wet and ugly. I sat in a parking lot, and watched droplets form on the window and guessed when the drop would run down the window. Now that's exciting stuff!
|We Grow Lots of Moss Here in Oregon. Plus various other fungi.|
|So was this darling little thing. Henceforth she will be known as Dove.|
|The fiestiest cat of the 18, a tiny little gray tabby girl. Spunk defined! In fact, I'll call her Spunky!|
|The caretakers call this little boy, probably Spunky's brother, Cowboy. He was fixed today too.|
|This young male is regal looking. So that will be his name--Regal. He's polite and sweet, unlike Spunky.|
|Then there's this bobtail tabby tux boy, fixed today too. Let's call him Bobs.|
|And look who we have here. If it isn't Mr. Hormone himself. Course those hormones will be fading away in the next couple months. But until they do, the name stays put.|